


Raising Hell Drabble

by MarinaSilvus



Category: Naruto
Genre: Drabble, Gen, OC SI
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 17:10:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7649404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarinaSilvus/pseuds/MarinaSilvus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's about five and a half when realization and association and memory slams into her conscious. She screams for a world she only now remembers, a life and a family, a whole other her, a whole other name. Because now she is Uzumaki Kushina and she will be raising all sorts of hell. OC insert as Kushina drabble</p>
            </blockquote>





	Raising Hell Drabble

**Author's Note:**

> Author's notes: So here's a little drabble teaser for something that's been building in my head for a bit now. The premise is of the oc insert in naruto world, but instead of a new character or taking that place of one of the main characters in canon- I've stuck her in Kushina's body. We'll see how the fallout goes from there.
> 
> Not sure if the actual fic is going to use this style of narration as much, I'm working on being able to tie together dialogue and narrative, we'll see how it goes.
> 
> This is unbeta'd and I'm not sure when I'll be able to post the fuller version I've got in the works- I've literally written this in between classes today.

She's born into a world of colour and light and laughter. She doesn't realize who or where or when. All the girl knows is a mother with hair like liquid fire and a father whose booming laugh makes his bruise purple eyes crinkle into a thousand tiny lines. There is music and art and the sea. Oh the glorious sea, shining at the edge of this wondrous village that she has danced though since she learned how to walk- maybe even before, there is always music in her head, and her body sways and dips to the silent notes. She learns to flip and spin and catch the knives her father will throw to her as she laughs madly in childish joy, and sends them hurtling back to him. She learns to make ink dance across the page, as surely as sure dances along the shore, her mother pointing out words and phrases that sing in her mind and blood.

She's bold and bright and smart- smarter than any of the other children her age. The games that start to become more and more like training just click for her, in way they don't seem to for the other sun splashed children, who laugh good naturedly and call her hime. She laughs too, but inside she longs to burn that word from the lips of those who call her thus. She is so much more than her father's position, than her family's legacy in this village that was built with the sweat and joy of her people. She is more than the sum of her arts.

She is Uzumaki Kushina and she is a mischievous helion dancing to the tune of spitting fire.

She's about five and a half when realization and association and memory slams into her conscious. She screams for a world she only now remembers, a life and a family, a whole other her, a whole other name. A name that use to mean something that she can't quite remember, not like she remembers other things. Things like stories and plots, characters and dooms. Her throat is hoarse and croaking by the time she starts for the world she has been born into, for the body she has been born into. Because before her name was just a name, half of it shared by many in her fresh salt scented village, and now it has plot and destiny attached to it. She refuses. She will not be that girl, she can not be that girl. She fucking refuses to be written off as a plot device with wishy washy characterization written by a man who couldn't write a decent female character worth a damn. She will burn this world to ashes before she lets a fiction from a past life dictate who she will be.

Because now she is Uzumaki Kushina and she will be raising all sorts of hell.

She's eight when they ship her off to another village, one choked in trees, the sky and sea far from her grasp and not even a hint of salt in the breeze to ease her heart. She cries for the last time that night, and licks the salt water that has splashed onto her hands. She will not bow and she will not break, this is not her home and she owes them nothing.

They think she doesn't know why she's been brought to this village of leaves and dry heat. There were explanations, traditions and strengthening ties, taking a place of honor- nothing but pretty words and lies. What they don't say is sacrifice, what they don't say is tool. While these old men with their greying beards smile and welcome her to their sickening dry village, their eyes shine with greed. Because here is a jinchuriki- here is another weapon to be stored away, the very existence used to frighten others.

But that's okay, because the girl who is now Uzumaki Kushina knows. She know everything. So her smile back is full of hidden razors and she doesn't not bow her head a fraction more than is required by a visiting shinobi. This is not her home, these are not her people, and she will not be used.


End file.
